


Stymphalian Birds

by merryghoul



Category: Greek and Roman Mythology, Sleepy Hollow (TV)
Genre: Birds, Gen, Guns, Starbucks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-29
Updated: 2014-08-29
Packaged: 2018-02-13 22:01:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,381
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2166759
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/merryghoul/pseuds/merryghoul
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ares decides to take his pets on vacation with him to Sleepy Hollow.  His pets wreck havoc on the town.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stymphalian Birds

**Author's Note:**

  * For [karrenia_rune](https://archiveofourown.org/users/karrenia_rune/gifts).



A chariot drawn by fire-breathing horses landed in the woods near Sleepy Hollow.  After the chariot's arrival, a fleet of birds followed the chariot and settled beside it in the woods.

The driver of the chariot, wearing a Corinthian helmet, raised his arms. The birds flew up in the air in all directions. And some of the birds headed towards Sleepy Hollow.

 

Ichabod and Abbie were in a Starbucks. They looked at the café's menu. A barista had drawn a hot drink and a Frappuccino drink, both topped with whipped cream, on the store's dry erase board. Both drinks had sunglasses over the tops of the drink. The words "GUESS WHO'S BACK?" were written over the drinks, while the words "PUMPKIN SPICE LATTE" were under the drinks.

"Pumpkin-flavored drinks near the end of summer?" Ichabod asked Abbie. "The pumpkin harvest does not begin until the end of September."

"They're selling pumpkin-flavored drinks now because pumpkin-flavored drinks are their most popular drinks."

"Which one should I get? Does it matter?"

"It doesn't matter, Crane. You need to pick one so we can get back to the station."

A quick succession of taps came from the café's window. A putrid smell wafted into the café.

Abbie ran to the window. "Crane? You'd better take a look at this."

Ichabod ran to the window. "I was convinced these birds existed only in myth."

Abbie turned to Ichabod and blinked. _"Myth?"_

"They are Stymphalian birds. Legendary pets of Ares in Greek mythology."

"So not only is Moloch real, the Greek gods are real as well."

"I believe we know this now, Miss Mills. You see that pile of bird excrement in the middle of the street?"

Abbie cringed. "I don't want to know about it."

"That pile of excrement is poisonous. We need to inform our friends at the station to let others know to be wary of bird droppings all over the town at the current moment."

"But I'd like to know more about what we're dealing with at the moment."

A Stymphalian bird flew down the middle of the street, firing its feathers at a person running down said street. The feathers gleamed as the bird fired them at the person running down the street.

"You see its feathers?"

"You think I _can't_ see them?"

"They are made out of metal. And they function very much like metallic darts. They can pierce you. And if they get close enough to you, they can also fight with their bronze beaks."

"How are we going to take them out?"

"The Greek hero Heracles used poisoned arrows to kill and scare away the Stymphalian birds during his sixth labor. He was also given a rattle by Athena to frighten the birds out of hiding."

"Okay. So where's Athena now?"

Ichabod paused. "I do not know if she knows about us. But unless she comes to our aid sometime in the near future, I think we need to distract the birds away from Sleepy Hollow. And I think we could kill these birds with a rifle. I happen to have one back at my cabin."

"Unless you've made up your mind on what pumpkin drink you want, we should be heading back to your cabin."

Ichabod nodded. "Yes, we should be getting back to my cabin. But I need to pick up a few things first."

Ichabod ran to the café's condiment counter. He stuffed his pockets full of things he knew he could throw. Sugar packets, honey packets, stir sticks—if he figured he could throw it at a distance and not have the item blow in the opposite direction, he stuffed it in his pockets.

"You know that you might not be able to come back to this particular Starbucks after taking most of their condiments, right, Crane?"

"It is a state of emergency. I am sure they will forgive me, and, quite possibly, give me one of those pumpkin drinks out of sheer gratitude."

Ichabod and Abbie ran out the door of the Starbucks. A blonde woman with gray eyes stopped them. She had a face that looked like an owl's.

"Are you Ichabod Crane?" the woman said.

"I am."

"And you must be Abigail Mills."

Abbie shook her head. "I don't know you."

"Oh, but you do know me." She pulled what looked like a bronze slingshot with metal bars and washers in the middle of it. She gave it to Abbie. "You're very lucky I have a grudge against a certain smith, and that smith happens to be lame. Good luck with those birds." The woman smiled, winked at the two and then ran down the corner of the street. Abbie ran after her. By the time Abbie reached the corner, the woman disappeared.

Abbie ran back to Ichabod, and the two ran to her car. She pulled out her phone. "Captain Irving? I need you to send out an alert for the town. I know this sounds crazy, but you need to warn the town to be careful of these big metallic birds with bronze beaks. They shoot dart feathers and their droppings are poisonous. Trust me on this." She hung up.

Abbie drove away from the Starbucks.

"Drive past as many birds as you can," Ichabod said.

Ichabod rolled down his window and peeked out his head out of it. When Abbie's car passed one of the Stymphalian birds, Ichabod started throwing his condiment packets at the bird. The condiments attracted the birds towards Abbie's car and out of Sleepy Hollow.

The birds shot their feathers at Abbie's car. Abbie drove all over the road to dodge them. Her body tensed as she saw the feathers pierce trees instead of her car, but she kept driving.

                             

When Abbie arrived at Ichabod's cabin, the two ran inside of it as fast as they could. The birds shot at Ichabod's door for a minute before disappearing. While Ichabod got out his rifle, Abbie pulled out the gift the owl-faced woman gave her.

"Crane, do you know what this is?"

Ichabod walked up to Abbie with his rifle and his ammunition with him. "I believe that is a sistrum."

Abbie blinked. "A sistrum?"

"It is a Greek rattle. And this Greek rattle is made completely out of bronze. I believe Athena handed you Heracles' rattle. We were mistaken. Athena does know about us."

Abbie shook the rattle. "How about we go kill some metal birds?"

 

Abbie and Ichabod walked outside, staying together as much as possible until they reached a clearing in the woods.

Abbie pulled out Heracles' rattle in the clearing. "You ready, Crane?"

"I am ready, Miss Mills."

Abbie shook the rattle. The Stymphalian birds flew out of hiding when they heard the rattle. Ichabod shot down the birds one by one. Although Ichabod's bullets weren't covered in any poison, the birds stayed dead on the floor of the forest.

For a moment, there was calm in the forest when the Stymphalian birds in the forest were dead. Then, out of nowhere, Ares and his chariot descended into the clearing.

"I'm guessing this is Ares," Abbie said.

"I suppose it is him." Ichabod reloaded his rifle. "Ares is a god of war, very much like Moloch." He aimed his rifle for Ares' bare chest. "But unlike Moloch or even Athena, he is not a _clever_ god of war. And he is the epitome of a coward."

Ichabod shot the rifle at Ares' chest. The bullet called Ares to fall off his chariot. Ares did manage to hang on to his horses.

"If I have my Greek myths correct, Ares should be leaving here with his birds soon."

Holding on to the chariot, Ares sent the chariot back into the air, disappearing out of Abbie and Ichabod's sight and away from Sleepy Hollow. The surviving Stymphalian birds followed him.

"Well, Crane, we were able to rid the town of Stymphalian birds," Abbie said. "There's just one huge problem."

"Which drink do I get at Starbucks? I think I'll go with—"

"No." She looked down. "How are we going to get rid of those corpses?"

Ichabod shook his head. "I have no idea, Miss Mills. Maybe we should mull this over at Starbucks. That is, if the establishment has not banished me yet."


End file.
